Three Little Words: It's Harder Than You Think
by Eliza4892
Summary: Post 2.27 Losing My Religion. CristinaBurke. She can't force the words past her lips. It's different when he's awake, when he could react. It's the reaction that scares her.


It was getting near dark when she knocked lightly on the door to his room. Burke was awake, like she knew he would be. His hand was held out in front of him, like it had been the past couple of times she'd seen him. Also the same as before was the way his hand couldn't remain perfectly still like he was aiming for it too. It was the slightest shake, something that a normal person would just ignore and learn to live with. But Burke was a surgeon, he needed steady hands, and without them he would most likely be facing the end of his surgical career. So he tried time and again, spending hours willing it not to shake, and Cristina did her best to be supportive and to help him but everyone knew that wasn't really her thing. Together they tried to pretend he wasn't fighting an uphill battle.

He didn't sleep very well at night, and because of that she'd been spending the nights she wasn't on call curled up in the chair by his bed. This had gone on for a straight week and she hadn't complained once about the arrangement, which was pretty good for her. Tonight, though, she needed to get out of here. She needed to get drunk, and bitch to Meredith about all this, and then crawl into the soft bed, that she knew would seem too big without his body next to hers, and sleep. She needed to get out of this hospital or she was going to go as mental as Izzie had gone with her incessant baking. And that was a whole new can of worms entirely.

When he nodded his head slightly, a motion for her to come in – like she really needed one – she entered, stopping a few feet from his bedside, avoiding that chair like the plague to show that she had no intentions of staying. He picked up on that slight hint in seconds and she started to feel like he knew her a little too well. "You're not staying tonight?"

She shifted uncomfortably at the disappointment in his voice. Usually he tried to hide things like that from her, but it looked like the energy had been pretty much sapped from him. "I'm going to go out for a while. With Meredith. I'll be back in the morning before rounds. I just need to get out of here for a while."

If Cristina was a little more in tune with people, and the way they read between the lines, she would've noticed that he took her statement to mean that she needed to get away from him. And that wasn't entirely untrue but he didn't need to know that. He let his arm fall back down to the bed, giving up for the time being, and looked at her. "Are you sure you really want to deal with this?"

The intensity in his eyes made her break his gaze. She knew exactly what he was talking about because they'd done this before. They had the talk where he gave her an out and told her she could back out because it was still early in the relationship for them. Most guys don't expect their girlfriends to stick around after they get shot, let alone if they end up in danger of losing their career.

He was right to think she would cut and run because that's what some one as emotionally detached as her did. It's what she would've done a couple of months earlier. It is too early and she's not that kind of person. Yet she can't bring herself to just leave him because no matter how messed up he is now, and how much worse things might get, he's still the first person she's ever been in love with and this probably won't be something that happens again. She just wished she could find the words, as well as the strength, to tell him all that.

"I already told you, this is fine." It's sick that there was more emotion behind her disagreement in food choices with him on their first date than there was in that sentence. Fine. It's just so impersonal, so meaningless. "Just stop asking me that."

He laid his head back on the pillows, and stared up at the ceiling, more tension in his face now than before. "I just want you to be certain. I don't want you to regret not backing out when you had the chance."

She wants to scream. "Are you trying to get me to leave?" He looked at her on the word 'leave'. "Because you keep making it sound like I'm going to spend the rest of my life as your live-in babysitter and that's not going to happen because you're going to get better."

He shook his head. "You don't know that." There was sadness in his voice, but there was also anger, just below the surface. Cristina didn't know if he was mad at her, himself, or the asshole who shot him in the first place.

"Look optimism is not my strong suit okay. But I'm trying to be that way because you can't and I understand why. It's not just doom and gloom though. There are ways to fix things and if you give it time the shaking might stop on its own." She really hadn't come in here to have this discussion. "And if it doesn't and they can't fix it then we'll deal. Either way I'm not going anywhere."

She watched the way he took in a deep breath, held it, and then exhaled slowly, before nodding. "Alright." It wasn't alright, it was just another way of saying that was enough for right now. He'd accepted that that was all he was getting out of her tonight. Still he needed something else from her, and even though she knew what it was, and had told him one night while he was asleep, she couldn't do it again. She couldn't force the words past her lips. It was different when he was awake, when he could react.

Cristina walked to the door, stopping just before reaching it, and turning. Maybe she can say it. Just say the words, and walk out. Don't give him time to react. Her mouth opens and she tells her self that's just what she'll do. _I love you_. "Goodnight."

She can't do it.

He doesn't react, not that she expects him to. There's nothing to say, it isn't what he wants from her. Someday she'll get the courage to tell him how she feels. That she needs him too. That she loves him. But that's not tonight. She just hopes he can wait a little longer.


End file.
